Later , I had dinner with my friends Sarah Brayer and Masa Fujiwara last night at their house in north Kyoto. Masa, who had spent a long day guiding happy Esprit clients, foraged in his garden for fresh greens and other vegetables, and then, in about 30 minutes, created this beautifully present, gourmet masterpiece meal. Note the flowers in the basket behind Masa. In addition to being a great chef, he also practices a type of ikebana done for tea ceremony, using native plants, flowers and grasses found in the mountains.

Masa Fujiwara

Impromptu Meal in Kyoto

Japan is different.   When tourism drops, the Japanese continue with their strong history of full employment and keep on their staff.  They figure out how to make it work; maybe reduce hours a little, maybe reassign duties, maybe catch up on work put off for just these times.   But they don’t fire their staff and they don’t further drive down their economy.

So now that Japan has been struck with a devastating blow to their country, their economy, their land and their people, they have also been dealt a blow to their tourism industry as well.   Visitors from abroad have dropped dramatically; hotels in areas of the country totally unaffected by the disasters are empty; restaurants are empty; the nightlife on the tourist streets are empty and the flights are empty.

Yet everywhere we go, we hear the happy echo of “Thank you for coming” in the particular sing-song intonation that anyone who has heard it in a Japanese restaurant or shop cannot forget.   The thank you is deep and heartfelt.

They thank us for coming.  They thank us for taking care of them.  They thank us for donating toys to relief efforts.  They thank us for sending our military.

It’s not a general thank you – it’s a personal thank you that we receive from everyone we talk to, delivered genuinely and with sincere gratitude as if by thanking me they are thanking all the millions of people who have been holding the Japanese in their hearts and prayers.

And so I think that perhaps it is time for westerners who are of a heart and mind to travel to Japan, to experience the culture, to reach out and meet this remarkable and resilient people and to see for themselves how a strong and peaceful nation recovers from unimaginable disaster need to start returning to Japan – so they can thank you for coming.

This comes to mind since there had been some reporting about Japan that, as a somewhat frequent visitor, I found disingenuous at best.  For instance, there were some reports that the people of Tokyo were wearing cloth face masks due to fear of radiation.  The Japanese have been wearing face masks for decades – to protect both themselves and others from germs, dust, pollen, etc.  One of our guide wears one all spring due to allergies.  In a society where blowing your nose is frowned upon, a face mask is a way of dealing with all sorts of physical discomfort while still keeping with the Japanese tendency to put the good of the group over the individual.

Another example is that they are supposedly only “now” labeling food with its place of origin due to fears about food from Fukashima prefecture.   I remember being in Japan last year and seeing a very large apology posted in a department store because they had advertised chickens on sale as being from one prefecture when a few that they sold came from some other prefecture.  Food origination information is NOT a new phenomenon in Japan – it’s part of how they work and think.   Food quality is highly valued and each area has specialties.  These are displayed proudly and are used as reference points – one buys abalone from this place and turnips from that place.

So with all that concern for safety and hygiene as practically inbred into the culture, it brings to mind a question about the children.   If you think that Japanese are vigilant about their personal health and safety, it’s nothing compared to the health and safety efforts they take for their children.   Little hard hats immediately available in case of earthquakes, regular drills, special foods and vitamins, and on and on.   So with all this concern, it got me thinking – how are the people of Japan protecting their children from the disasters that have just befallen the country?

Well, it seems from a casual observation over the past 7 days that they are going about their business as usual.   During our touring we saw many large groups of school kids – in a range of ages and at a range of sights and events.   Unlike in the US, where it seems there are far fewer field trips and, when they occur, the kids all take a bus to a nearby farm and are back for lunch – the Japanese seem to travel quite long distances in groups from a young age.   We saw lots of kids on field trips on public transportation – whole classes of children, of all ages, in their uniforms or cute matching hats, accompanied by their teachers, patiently sitting on the station floors, lined up for 1/2 hour before their train departs, filing onto the trains and into their seats.  And this wasn’t just subway trains; it was Shinkansen trains across half the country.   And it wasn’t 16-year olds – we saw kids about 7-8 at the Kyoto Shinkansen station.   As an aside,  I wondered what would happen if one of them strayed off.  And then I realized that they had been doing this for so long, since they were so young, that they would probably be totally equipped to just find the right authorities to help, get onto the next train and catch up with their group.  Of course, this would never happen since a) the Japanese are so efficient that the teachers wouldn’t let it happen and b) the kids are so obedient that they wouldn’t even think of straying off…   But they would be safe.

So it made me wonder – were the people in the areas of Japan we traveled to suddenly indifferent to the dangers that the rest of the world seems to think exists here and so, were willing to expose their kids to a potentially toxic and lethal environment, OR, is it possible, that they have now become informed enough to be secure in the knowledge that they can send their kids to school, to events and even on train trips across half the country without undue concern for their long-term well-being?

On a visit with a local hotel manager (of foreign origin) in Kyoto, he told me that recently he had a conversation with a European traveler planner who asked if it was safe to be in Kyoto.  His reply:  “I send my kids to school here.”  And wouldn’t a parent be the one to wind up saying more than anything a hyped-up media could ever say about a place?

So instead of spending our days outside the zone, we spent today zoned out… at the Kamo Odori.   I would love to post a picture of this too, but cameras and videos are strictly forbidden.  So all I have is a picture of the curtain which I took before the performance started.   The Kamo Odori is one of several dance performance series put on by maiko (apprentice geisha); this one in May.   The other one is the Miyako Odori, which is in April.  If you’re in Kyoto during these months you can go to one of the shows.

There were two parts to this event for us – the most hysterical part was the “tea ceremony” that preceded the show.   Our tickets included the “tea ceremony” – there is a reason I put it in quotes a lot.   This was the fastest tea ceremony ever – we laughed the entire time.   We were ushered onto an elevator, up the elevator to the fourth floor of the theatre building, into a room with about 5 long bench-like tables with small stools lined up in front of them.  In the front of the room sat a young maiko (I guess), perfectly made up with tea implements around and a second one doing something (don’t recall what, no time to observe).   The ushers pointed to us to sit down, one attendant went down the table placing a piece of paper, a small ceramic dish and a mochi with red bean paste inside on it.  Then out came another attendant and dropped a bowl of whisked tea in front of each person.   Then all the people around us either wolfed down the sweet or pocketed it, gulped down the tea, wrapped the dish in the paper and stood up and rushed out of the room.   We were just trying to figure out what to DO and the next group of people were rushed in and seated.   In the meantime, an attendant was scurrying along picking up the empty tea bowls – I’m sure I upset the plan when I didn’t finish my tea.  David ate the rest of my mochi…    All the while, the young ladies at the front sat motionless in some odd living still-life of a tea ceremony.

After we were shooed out of the “tea room” they sent us down a flight of stairs, past the first shop of souvenirs.  Then down another flight of stairs, past another shop, this time with food souvenirs.  Then through a big room, more stairs, more rooms, more stairs until we got to the right part of the theater to be seated.  That’s when I took the illegal curtain shot.  The rest of the show will remain a visual mystery – but it was really fascinating.   The first half seemed to be a play/story with women in all parts – of course we didn’t understand a word but the costumes were wonderful and the expressions were fabulous.  The second part was the dance and included a group of about 12 women playing instruments such as shamisen, flutes and drums.   In fact, they had a very large percussion section with all sorts of instruments creating loud noises.  The only one I couldn’t figure out was the very loud cricket sound -maybe it was just a bad microphone.   Four of the ladies sang; sometimes together, sometimes alone.   All this while we were treated to various dances  – sort of a rockettes in kimono thing – with all the girls in full make-up, hair, etc.  It was driving me nuts not to be able to take pictures!    The thing was, since I didn’t understand the words and the music was not familiar and catchy, I found myself zoning out during the performance and just taking it in.   It was incredibly relaxing after a busy day of touring.

So the point is, outside of the “zone”, there’s plenty of opportunity to find yourself “zoned-out”.

Starting at promptly 10:30, the first elegantly clad marcher in the Aoi Matsuri parade came around the corner of the Imperial Palace on a well-worn route.   Down the main road in front of the palace past first, a small band of adorable school kids (in assorted green, yellow and blue hats), then past those seated in the bright sunshine today, then on around a set course to the Kamigamo Shrine.   We got pictures of a wide range of horses in their finery, marches in assorted outfits, princesses under their gaily decorated umbrellas and a few floats being carried or horse-drawn.   We walked through the palace grounds towards the Shrine but the crowds got too thick, so we hopped a bus to western Kyoto, to Arashiyama.

In Arashiyama the second festival was taking place just a little later in the day.  Again a parade from a shrine, only this one went to the edge of the water, where everyone boarded decorated boats and paddled about in the river.   Lots more picture taking opportunities.   One segment where they played traditional music and women danced on the boats.  There was  boat with a big drum; not sure what that was for.    We understand the various boating parties “paraded” around in the water for two hours.

Both festivals had people lining the routes a few deep.   The weather was delightful, if a little hot when we were not in the shade.   Our guide was happy to describe some of the history of the festivals, they all harken back to some long-ago tradition but frankly I don’t remember which tradition and why so I’m not going to try to write it up like an expert.  Here is good information about the Aoi Festival and the Mifune Festival.

Kyoto today was busy, happy and festive.